Supernatural Shenanigans
by KamalaC
Summary: Much like Angelic Shenanigans, this is a collection of my fills for the spnkink meme over on LiveJournal. 03: What happens when Dean and Cas find themselves trapped in the real world with tv actors Jensen and Misha. With Misha around, anything's possible.
1. DeanCrowley

A/N: Filling prompts from the spnkink_meme this time, trying to get the smut-bunnies to behave so I can finish plotting the other stories.

First up from an anonymous prompter: Request: Dean/Demon, Stockholm Syndrome, Daddy!kink, Dubcon.  
>Would love to see Dean being captured and developing Stockholm Syndrome for his captor. Daddy!kink is a bonus.<p>

The demon has to be YED, Alistair or Crowley. I'm not fussy about who, I'm just itching for some stockholm syndrome!

This is what came out:

Title: Good Boy

Pairing: Dean/Crowley

Warnings: Dubcon (at first), sorta Stockholm/brainwashing (not sure if it's exactly what prompter was looking for), handjobs, blowjobs, frottage, exhibitionism/reluctant voyeurism, anal sex.

-SS-

The first time Dean wakes up in his new home, he's not overly concerned. With the amount of times the angels have screwed with his dreams, he figures this is just another one. Then he remembers what made him fall asleep in the first place, and starts to shake.

He'd managed to get Sam and Bobby a head-start out of the hell-hole, helping Cas distract the demons from their task of catching Sam. They'd been separated during the fight, however, and Dean had gone down. Certain that this was his end – yet again – Dean had been unable to move, when suddenly the demons started screaming and running. Though he couldn't see what had scared them off, he'd heard and sensed it – hellhounds.

Specifically: Crowley's hellhounds.

The Crossroads King himself had sauntered over then, smirking. Dean had passed out before managing to insult the pompous git, injuries overtaking him. And now he's woken up, apparently completely healed, resting in a huge, comfortable bed in an overly lavish bedroom.

This does not bode well.

It takes Dean a few minutes to struggle out from under the covers and over to the edge of the bed, and by the time he's standing, Crowley has entered the room.

"Finally up and about, I see," the demon smirks at Dean, gaze wandering over the expanse of flesh.

Dean looks down, and swallows hard. He's completely naked.

"Okay, I realise I'm ridiculously good-looking," Dean tries not to squirm, "but you really don't need to see quite this much of me. Where are my pants?"

"Sorry." Crowley doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "They just got in the way. You won't be needing them anymore."

"What? Why not?" Dean's immediately on the defensive, not liking where this is going.

"You've proven that you can't be trusted with your own safety," Crowley shrugs. "So I'm taking a whack at it. Let's see if I can keep you alive for more than a month at a time."

"Let's not," Dean growls back.

"You don't get a say in it," Crowley shrugs, then turns towards the door again. "You should find most of what you need within this suite. I'll return tomorrow. See if you've accepted things then."

-SS-

Dean hasn't accepted things the next day.

He spends hours scouring the rooms, looking for a way out. There's the bedroom, bigger than pretty much any he's been in before. In addition to the huge bed there is a seating area with a comfortable couch and a television, which doesn't actually receive outside channel, a cabinet filled with blu-rays, and a bookshelf containing mostly fiction books, with a few car or skin magazines. The floor is dark polished wood with thick brown and green rugs over the top, and the walls are painted deep green. With the dark wooden furniture, the room somehow feels like a forest.

Through one door is a bathroom, roughly the size of his usual motel bedrooms. This room is decorated in various shades of blues and greens, a definite under-water theme, somewhat clichéd maybe but still tastefully done. The shower has enough room for at least four people, and there's a large tub that Dean could probably swim in if he felt like it as well.

The other door in the bedroom that Dean can open contains a personal gym. There are no weapons, but there's a punching bag, a wrestling ring, and several exercise machines. Another large TV is on the wall in front of the machines.

In all, Dean is reluctantly impressed. It really is the perfect place to keep him imprisoned and entertained. Not that he wants to be here, and if he had any way of escaping he'd take it in a heartbeat. But there are no windows, not even barred ones, and the only door out won't open. It doesn't seem to be locked, it just won't open for Dean.

It opens for Crowley though.

"So, settling in are we?"

"Bite me," Dean mutters, sitting on the couch and glaring at Crowley.

"If you insist," Crowley shrugs and steps forwards.

"Hold up!" Dean jumps up, hands outstretched. "That wasn't an invitation!"

"You shouldn't tease. It's not nice." Crowley looks at Dean for a moment, then around at the room. "So, how do you like it? Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"You could give me back my clothes," Dean tries, even though he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"No." Crowley doesn't disappoint. "You might be able to earn them back if you behave."

This continues for several visits. Dean thinks that Crowley is coming once a day, but without being able to judge time properly, he can't really know. He does know that he sleeps between visits, and that whenever he gets hungry food appears on the low table in front of the couch. It's always something different, and a lot of it he's never tried before. Fancy things that he'd never been able to afford before.

He thinks that Crowley might be trying to court him with all the effort he's putting into this. It scares him a little that he's not more put off by the thought.

-SS-

It's about the twentieth visit, and Dean's frustrated in several different ways – though mostly, at the moment, it's sexual frustration. He's gone longer without sex, especially since coming back from Hell, but he's always before been able to at least look at women and construct fantasies about them. Here, his only contact is with Crowley, for maybe ten minutes at a time.

He's in the shower, trying to take care of his little problem by himself, when he hears Crowley moving around the bathroom.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Dean mutters.

"Sorry, is this a bad time?" Crowley calls out. "My schedule's all out of order at the moment, I'll have to fire my secretary."

Dean just glares at the tiles in front of him, and shuts off the water. He knows he's not going to be able to enjoy himself with Crowley standing right outside the shower. He tries to will his erection away, but it doesn't seem to be working. After a few minutes, he figures what the hell – it's Crowley's fault for interrupting anyway.

He steps out of the shower and crosses to collect his towel, determinedly not looking at Crowley while he does so. He's so focussed on ignoring the demon, in fact, that he's taken by surprise when Crowley steps behind him and grabs his arm, holding him still.

"What the fuck?" Dean starts to turn, but finds it difficult when Crowley's other hand reaches around and grasps his cock. "Woah, hold up there!"

"Oh shut up," Crowley starts stroking him leisurely. "I thought you might appreciate someone else touching you."

"Crowley, this is not okay! Let go!" Dean's trying to struggle, but Crowley is effectively surrounding him, holding him in place.

"Once you're done," Crowley says calmly. "Now just enjoy it."

Dean opens his mouth to further object, when Crowley squeezes a little harder on his cock, just underneath the head, and Dean instead lets out a low groan of arousal.

"That's better." Dean can hear the smirk in Crowley's voice, but as long as that skilled hand keeps stroking him, Dean's not going to object. It really has been too long since he got laid. Instead, he reaches forwards and holds onto the towel rail, and starts moving his hips. Crowley lets go of his arm then. Dean doesn't really notice.

Somehow, Crowley knows exactly how to bring Dean panting and shivering to climax. Dean lets his head fall forwards and grunts as he ejaculates all over the towel he was going to use to dry off earlier, and barely notices when Crowley leans forwards slightly, both arms going around Dean so that he can wipe his hands clean.

"Good boy."

Dean's head shoots up and he looks over his shoulder, just as Crowley's leaving. He trips on his own feet a little as he heads to the door, watching the demon leave the room.

Feeling thoroughly confused, Dean turns back to have another shower and clean away the feel of a demon on his skin.

When he gets out, the towel is clean and dry again. There's also a chest of drawers in the bedroom now, containing several pairs of boxer shorts.

-SS-

For the next ten visits, Crowley continues to give Dean a hand-job. He doesn't speak much otherwise, but always tells Dean that he's a good boy after. Dean stops even pretending to not want it after a while, letting himself face Crowley while it's happening. So, naturally, Crowley has to up the ante again.

Dean's lying back on the couch, sated again, and for the first time Crowley's sitting next to him still. The demon waits until Dean is breathing normally, then gently pushes him off the couch and onto his knees.

"I've been good to you so far," Crowley informs his human pet, "so it's time for you to return the favour."

"I don't know," Dean shifts a little, but he's not moving away. "I've never… not with another guy."

"Well, it'll be a learning experience for you." Crowley tugs him forwards, a hand behind Dean's head showing clearly what he wants. "Come on. I've gotten you off how many times so far? And I'm willing to keep going, if you'll just help me out a little."

Against his better judgement, Dean nods and wets his lips as he reaches for the fly of Crowley's expensive suit trousers. He can see that Crowley's already hard, and can't keep himself from squirming a little as he touches another man's erection for the first time.

"That's it," Crowley gently encourages him. "Take your time."

Dean wraps a hand around the base and leans forwards, gingerly lapping at the head of the cock in his face. He tries to remember all of the things he likes in a blowjob, and slowly starts licking all of Crowley's erection. When it is covered in saliva to Dean's satisfaction, he slides his mouth over the cock and starts bobbing his head, still flicking it with his tongue and massaging the base with his hand. His other hand rests on Crowley's thigh, thumb stroking the fabric of his pants absently.

"Perfect," Crowley whispers, carding a hand through Dean's hair. Dean feels lighter somehow at the praise, and puts more effort into his task. He shoves aside the voice screaming at him that he shouldn't be sucking off a male demon – the voice that sounds an awful lot like Sam.

It takes a while, before Crowley gently pulls Dean's head back and Dean finishes stroking him to completion with his hands. Crowley growls a little as he comes over Dean's chest, then leans back with a sigh.

"Good boy," he tells Dean.

Dean feels a small smile tug at his lips, and he rests his head on Crowley's leg. Sure it feels weird to let Crowley jerk him off, and giving the demon a blowjob was beyond strange, but somehow, the praise makes it worthwhile.

He can count the number of people who've praised him before on one hand. Not counting people he's rescued or helped of course, but people who actually know the whole story. Sam might have said it a few times, but it was more common for the brothers to insult each other. He wasn't sure if he'd ever heard Cas tell him he'd done well. Bobby either.

As for Dad… Dean's pretty sure that Crowley's already praised him more often than Dad ever did.

While Dean's thinking about all of this, Crowley puts himself away and does his clothes back up. He then returns to stroking Dean's head, smirking down at the hunter. He loves the sight of Dean Winchester, big strong hunter, on his knees for a demon. But he can't stay too long – if he does, he might ruin all the hard work he's put into this so far. Dean's still too resistant. The game isn't over yet.

"Come on," Crowley pushes Dean's head up, not unkindly. "There's things I have to do. Can't hang around here all day, as much as I'm enjoying the company."

After he leaves, Dean finds that there are now sock in the dresser as well as the boxers. He pulls on a pair, feeling a little ashamed that socks and underwear are the most he's worn in roughly a month.

-SS-

The state of affairs continues for several more visits – Crowley will give Dean hand-jobs, and Dean will suck Crowley off. Sometimes both at the same time, but it's still always Crowley who initiates things. The demon is starting to wonder if he's ever going to break.

Finally, just when Crowley's starting to contemplate downgrading Dean's menu, the hunter makes a move of his own.

Crowley walks into the room to see Dean curled up on the couch, so caught up in his book that he doesn't notice the extra presence for a few moments. It's enough to put an extra spring in his step – the big bad hunter is relaxing further and further into Crowley's gilded cage. He walks over as Dean stands, noting with glee that it was a trashy romance novel that captured Dean's attention.

Dean takes a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for something. Crowley really hopes that he's not going to be asked to let him go again – Dean hasn't brought up his imprisonment for over a week now.

He's caught a little bit off-guard when Dean bends his neck and presses their mouths together instead of whining at him, but Crowley's not going to argue this. Instead he brings his arms up and runs his hands greedily over Dean's bare skin. He feels the shiver go through the hunter as Dean moves closer, the human's hands slipping inside Crowley's jacket to wrap around him.

Crowley manoeuvres them so that Dean is lying back on the couch, Crowley between his legs, and the two are grinding together. Crowley has left Dean's mouth and is trailing bites and kisses down his neck and across his chest while Dean is moaning beneath him, bucking up and clawing at Crowley's back. It's one of the best things Crowley's felt in a long time, the systematic destruction and enslavement of this previously powerful and respected hunter. He just wishes he had someone to boast to – he's not willing to tell anyone that Dean is here yet, there's too much risk the news could get back to the others.

When Dean comes, gasping Crowley's name, it's enough to send Crowley over the edge as well. The pair lie panting together, and Crowley feels remarkably fulfilled.

"Well that was a pleasant greeting," he finally acknowledges. "What a good boy you are." He sees the slight shine in Dean's eyes, and smirks. Perfect. He sits up on the couch properly, and before he can speak again Dean has shifted, lying so that his head is resting on Crowley's lap. Crowley decides that he likes this turn of events. "You're being a very good boy today. I wonder what we should do to reward such good behaviour?" His hands stroke along Dean's skin again, drawing a contented sigh.

"Could I, maybe…" Dean stars in a whisper, then trails off, seemingly unsure.

"Ask, Love, and we'll see." Crowley's interested in what Dean comes up with. As long as it's not something that could lead to an escape, he'll probably grant it. He wants Dean to think of him as a benevolent figure.

"It's just, I spend so much time here alone," Dean fidgets a little, not looking at Crowley. "It's kinda… lonely. D'you think I could… have a pet?"

Crowley blinks, surprised. Well. That's certainly doable.

"Of course you can," he reassures Dean. "In fact, why don't you go and take a shower, and I'll go fetch one for you."

Dean raises up, slowly, looking as though he can hardly believe his luck. Crowley just pats his head again and pushes him towards the bathroom, then leaves. He's got just the pet in mind.

-SS-

When Dean steps out of the bathroom again, the first thing he notices is that there's another door. Crowley's nowhere in sight, so he goes over to investigate. It opens easily, and Dean lets out a gasp of surprise.

On the other side of the door, sunlamps in the ceiling have allowed a lawn to be grown inside. The walls and ceiling are painted to make it look like an open field, and rolling on its back in the middle is what could only be a hellhound puppy.

The puppy looks up at the intrusion, and runs towards its new friend. Dean picks it up, gingerly at first, then with more enthusiasm as it seems more interested in licking him than biting him. He looks around again and sees food and water dishes near the door, and dog toys scattered all over the room. The puppy licks Dean's neck, regaining his attention, and Dean reads the collar on it.

"Persephone," he smiles. "You're going to be my friend here, aren't you Sephy?"

Persephone lets out a little wuff of agreement, and Dean holds her tight.

-SS-

Crowley doesn't return for a long time. Dean starts to worry when he's slept twice. When Crowley finally walks in, Dean kneels at his feet and throws his arms around the demon, nuzzling into his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers as Crowley cards a hand through his hair. "Whatever I did I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you leave."

"Hush, Love," Crowley smiles. "You did nothing wrong. I had to offer some assistance to a couple of hunters – they're fighting against Lucifer, and needed a bit of a helping hand. On the plus side, I have a nice new soul in my bank."

Dean continues to cling to Crowley, and Persephone sits by his side, whining at her master's distress. Crowley fishes a doggy-treat from his pocket and drops it to the hound, at least making her feel better.

"So, you like the puppy?" Crowley's pretty sure of the answer, but decides to ask anyway.

"Yes, thank you so much," Dean starts calming down, and smiles up at Crowley. "My dad never let us have pets. Too much trouble, and too difficult to keep in the Impala for long stretches of time. But we always wanted a dog, me and Sammy."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm taking care of you," Crowley nods towards the couch, and Dean lets him go long enough to get situated, Crowley sitting while Dean lies down next to him, head on the demon's leg again. "If you want something, all you have to do is ask. I won't punish you for asking, and if you're a good boy, you'll probably get what you want."

"I'm a good boy?" Dean asks, little more than a whisper. Crowley hears him though and smiles down at him.

"You've been a very good boy so far. Let's see if you can keep it up." With that, he moves his hand from its position on Dean's head, and gently runs his fingers over Dean's lips instead. "Open up, Love, and get them nice and wet."

Dean does as he's told, licking and sucking at the fingers presented to coat them in saliva. Crowley can feel himself start to stiffen as he recalls those lips and that tongue working on him in other places.

When he feels that his hand is sufficiently lubricated, Crowley removes it from Dean's mouth and trails it down the human's back and inside his boxer shorts. He circles Dean's anus and teases it a little, pushing the tip of his finger in before withdrawing again.

"Please, Crowley," Dean whimpers. "Please…"

"Please what?" Crowley asks, continuing the tease.

"Please put it in me," Dean mutters, unable to look up at the demon above him.

Crowley does as asked, pressing his finger inside Dean's arse, sliding back and forth to open him up. The spit isn't doing a great job of lubrication, but Crowley doesn't care that much. It's doing well enough.

"More," Dean begs soon. "Please, more."

"Such good manners," Crowley smirks and pushes another finger inside. "You're being a very good boy, Dean."

The door bursts open then, Sam and Castiel having finally realised where Dean must be. Crowley glares momentarily, then waves a hand – both men are flung against the wall opposite the couch, with a perfect view of what's about to happen. He smiles then, feeling the lack of angelic Grace from Castiel – it was enough to track Dean down, but the little angel won't be interfering in Crowley's plans any time soon.

"So glad you could make it," Crowley relaxes back against the couch. "This is, after all an important visit."

Sam opens his mouth, and Crowley quickly waves his hand again. Gags appear on both captives, rendering them completely unable to sway Dean's mind.

Dean himself looks up, a little confused at Sam's appearance. He doesn't seem to understand why Sam's glaring at them both. Then he closes his eyes and gasps as Crowley presses against something inside of him, something that feels wonderful.

"Please, more of that," he begs, and Crowley laughs.

"Certainly. But you've got me doing all the work – shouldn't you return the favour?"

Almost before Crowley finishes speaking, Dean's undoing his trousers and fishing out his cock. He licks and sucks at it, getting it nice and wet for what he knows comes next. He can't wait.

"That's it, Love," Crowley praises him while continuing to finger him. "Such a good boy."

After a few minutes, Crowley decides that he's teased their spectators enough for now – time to move on to the torture. He removes his hand from Dean's boxers and instead starts pushing them down. Dean gets the idea quickly and wriggles out of his only clothing, toeing off his socks at the same time. He then lets the cock fall out of his mouth and looks up at Crowley with hopeful eyes.

"What do you want now?" Crowley asks him kindly, one hand going up to cradle the back of Dean's head. The hunter sighs and pushes into the contact, causing Crowley to smirk in triumph.

"Want you inside me," Dean admits. "Want you to fuck me. Please…"

"Since you ask so nicely," Crowley leans forwards and draws Dean into a languid kiss, tongues entwining and dancing between their mouths. He can hear the fury as his captives try to make their displeasure known, but feels free to ignore them. After all, Dean's not paying them any attention. "C'mere Love, if you want this you need to work for it."

He pulls Dean over, and the human goes with the flow quite well. Crowley simply sits back, hands around Dean's waist not doing much more than guiding him. Dean, on the other hand, straddles Crowley's legs while facing away from him, grabbing the demon's cock and lining himself up.

Dean lowers himself down gradually, rocking down then up again as he gets used to having something in his arse. It's different to anything he's done before, but he likes it. Likes anything that Crowley does to him, because it's Crowley. He closes his eyes and leans back, finally sitting on Crowley's lap properly, letting his head rest on Crowley's shoulder.

"Good boy," Crowley praises him, and the others can see as Dean's dick twitches at the words. It's already hard, without having been touched – Crowley feels pride that his words and fingers up Dean's arse have been able to produce that. It means that Dean is well and truly his.

"More," Dean lets out a groan as he starts moving his hips, shifting a little to find a better angle. Soon, Crowley spreads his legs a little, Dean's on the outside of his, and pushes Dean forwards gently. Dean catches on, and rests his hands on Crowley's thighs, using them as leverage to raise and lower himself on the cock beneath him.

At this angle, Crowley's cock is rubbing most effectively against Dean's prostate, and the human is soon speeding his motions to get as much stimulation as he can.

"That's it," Crowley encourages him, rubbing his back gently. "That's my boy. Fucking yourself on my cock. You're so hungry for it, aren't you?"

"Yes," Dean whines in the back of his throat and tries to go harder. "More, please more!"

"Such a well-behaved little slut," Crowley watches as Sam and Castiel try to block out what's happening. Well, Sam does – Castiel looks curious, and a little bit envious. As though he wishes he could command Dean like this. "You're my pet now, aren't you? You'll do whatever I ask."

"Yes, Crowley, yes," Dean's panting, and Crowley knows he's close. So he leans forwards, pressing his fully-clothed chest against Dean's bare back.

"Call me Daddy," he smirks at Sam as he whispers into Dean's ear. He knows what a sore spot John Winchester is for his sons. If he can just cross this final barrier…

"Daddy!" Dean cries out, his rhythm not faltering at all. "Daddy, please, more!"

"Good boy," Crowley speaks directly into Dean's ear, and that's enough. He feels it as Dean clenches around him, a chorus of "Daddy, yes, mine" falling from the human's lips as he reaches orgasm, and Crowley wants to howl in triumph. Instead he waits for Dean to slump in his arms, then slides them both off of the couch so that Dean is draped over the coffee table and starts his own entertainment.

His thrusts into Dean are hard and fast to the point of brutality, but the hunter just takes it all, occasionally letting out a moan for more. Crowley knows he won't last much longer, and makes the most of it while he can.

"Mine!" He finally shouts as he comes inside of Dean, drawing a pleased sigh from the practically comatose body beneath him.

Crowley watches as tears fall from Sam's eyes, and the angel glares back at him. Apparently angels get territorial… good to know. He withdraws from Dean and sits on the couch again, waiting for his pet to get his breath back. Once that happens, Dean turns and sits at Crowley's feet again, resting his head on Crowley's leg.

"So," Crowley runs a hand through Dean's hair, smiling down at the now completely compliant human. "What shall we do with the trespassers, hm?"

Dean looks over at them, then back at Crowley.

"Could I… could I keep them? Please?" He asks, unsure of what the answer will be. Crowley just grins at him.

"Let's see how good you can be."


	2. JensenMisha

Kinks: sad!Misha, comforting!Jensen, overwhelming schmoop, out-doors blowjob. This may be one of the tamest things I've written since deciding to do smut.

Since there wasn't much direction in the prompt, here's the summary: Something's been off with Misha for a couple of days. As his boyfriend, Jensen decides to try and make things better.

-SS-

"Hey Jen," Jared nudged his friend with his elbow. "Is it just me, or is Misha really quiet today?"

"Hm?" Jensen looked up from where he'd been studying the script, then at the man in question. "Huh. Yeah. That's odd."

"Any idea why?"

"Why do you think I'd know what goes on inside Misha's head?"

"Uh, because he's your boyfriend?"

"And he's just as confusing to me as anyone else. You don't get to hear the insane things he comes up with during the more… intimate moments." Misha's headscape was indeed just as puzzling to Jensen as to anyone else.

"Well, did you forget his birthday or something?" Jared went for what usually got people in trouble with a partner.

"Not for another two months."

"Anniversary?"

"Another four months."

"Well… has something else happened?"

"Dunno. Lemme check his Twitter," Jensen pulled out his phone. It was just one of the things he'd worked out from dating Misha – if he couldn't get the guy to talk, check Twitter.

There was nothing, and Jensen was at a loss. Misha was doing fine acting-wise, nailing each shot first try, no clowning about. It was unnerving.

When Jensen tried to talk to him later, Misha begged off, claiming he was tired. Figuring it could be the reason for the behaviour change, Jensen let it drop and told Misha to sleep well tonight instead.

The next day wasn't much better though. When they arrived in make-up, everyone could see the dark shadows under Misha's eyes, and he was even more withdrawn than yesterday. He lightened up a little when he, Jared and Jensen ate lunch together, so Jensen tried not to worry. At least he got a kiss before shooting started again, which made it unlikely it was their relationship.

-SS-

On Saturday, Jensen showed up on Misha's doorstep with a six-pack of beer and a couple of subs he'd picked up, figuring that spending some time together wouldn't be a bad thing. When the door was opened, however, Jensen thought that maybe he should have called first. Misha's eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, and he was sniffling a little. Something was definitely wrong.

So Jensen stepped forwards and wrapped Misha in a hug, awkwardly putting his bag of goodies down as he started bathing Misha in affection. Misha had no problem with this, and hugged back, lapping up the attention.

After a while they separated, and Misha looked a little more composed.

"Hey Jen. Special occasion?"

"You've been off for a few days," Jensen shrugged. "Thought we could spend the day hiding from the world and just having some fun?"

Misha looked down at the floor, then back up.

"Yeah. Can I… could you drive me somewhere? There's something I gotta do, then I'm all yours."

"Sure thing," Jensen nodded. He followed Misha further into the house, planning on putting the food and beer in the fridge until they got back. When he passed the turtle enclosure though, he paused.

"Hey, what happened to the other turtle?"

There was a sound of something breaking in the kitchen and a muffled sob, and it clicked. Misha… was upset because his turtle died.

He considered cracking a joke for all of five seconds – even though it had been a turtle, it was still a beloved pet, and he could remember the feeling of having a pet die without warning. It was devastating.

"Hey," he made his way into the kitchen and wrapped a shaking Misha in a hug again, this time pressing his back against Misha's chest. "Sh, it's okay. I'm sorry." He looked over Misha's shoulder, and realised that he'd taken a box out of the freezer. It was roughly the right size to hold the dead turtle. "You want me to take you somewhere to bury him, don't you?"

"Yeah," Misha nodded, clearly trying to pull himself together. "I just… there's this park with a lake, I wanted to bury him near it."

"Okay," Jensen squeezed him a little. "Okay. Let's take the food with us, give him a wake. A proper send-off."

"Really?" Misha tilted his head so that he could look back at Jensen.

"Really," Jensen nodded, leaning forwards a little to kiss his boyfriend. Granted it was usually Misha coming up with the insane ways to spend their days off, but Jensen had been known to have a good idea now and then.

-SS-

They sat together under a tree, overlooking the lake. They'd held a proper funeral for the turtle, with much sadness, and then proceeded to eat the sandwiches and drink the beer, telling stories about past pets. By the time the sun went down, Misha was smiling again, and Jensen felt like he'd done something good today.

He looked around and took note of the lack of other people, then turned back to Misha with a grin.

"Y'know what would really put you back in a good mood?"

"Hmm?" Misha hummed in response, still watching the water. It was so pretty, the red of sky reflected on the perfectly still water. He squirmed when he felt Jensen licking his neck, trying to reclaim his attention, and couldn't help the large smile. "Oh, that. Well, if you insist…"

He was cut off by Jensen kissing him properly, and gladly went along with it. It was nice to be on the receiving end of comforting, even if he was still upset at losing his precious turtle. He allowed Jensen to lay him back on the ground, and gently patted Jensen's hair as the taller man nuzzled against his chest and stomach.

Jensen undid Misha's pants and belt with practiced ease and settled between the spread legs to start mouthing at his boyfriend's cock. He smiled when he finally started laying kisses along the now-exposed flesh, hearing Misha sigh in happiness above him. It wasn't often that Misha let Jensen take care of him, so Jensen planned on enjoying the evening.

He wrapped his lips around the head of Misha's cock, sucking lightly as he pressed his tongue against the slit. Sure he'd never really enjoyed giving a blowjob, but he'd suffer through it for the sounds Misha made – soft little mewling noises, choked-off gasps, and of course the whispers of Jensen's name. And he was learning exactly how to use his mouth to coax the sounds he wanted out of his lover.

Misha panted as Jensen lowered his head another inch or so, swirling around the head of Misha's cock with his tongue and massaging the base with one hand. The other hand had found its way inside Misha's pants and was gently massaging his balls, squeezing now and then to draw out a gasp of shocked pleasure.

When Jensen started to bob his head up and down, the perfect suction without even a hint of teeth, Misha couldn't help himself and started thrusting upwards. Jensen let him, just adjusted his own actions to keep bringing his boyfriend relief.

It took a while, tension slowly building, before Misha tugged on Jensen's hair with one hand.

"Jen, that's it. Get up here." He knew that Jensen didn't enjoy the taste of semen, so he never pushed Jensen to let him come in his mouth.

Jensen gave one last, long lick to the underside of Misha's cock, then crawled up Misha's body and claimed his mouth for a hard, possessive kiss as has hand finished the job. Their tongues battled for dominance – something neither man gave up easily – as Misha eagerly rocked into Jensen's fist. It wasn't long now, and Misha opened his eyes, seeing Jensen's face against a background of tree branches and star as he gasped Jensen's name and fell apart.

How they made it out of the park and back to Jensen's place, Misha's wasn't entirely sure. But as he lay happily entwined with Jensen, messed up sheets and blankets creating a nest, he didn't care. He knew how much Jensen loved him, and how much he loved Jensen back.


	3. CasDeanMishaJensen

Kink-meme request for Mulder200 - Cas/Dean/Misha/Jensen foursome. So what happens when Dean and Cas find themselves trapped in the real world with tv actors, Jensen and Misha. With Misha around, anything is possible.

And who doesn't want to have sex with themselves?

A/N: Turns out it's actually quite difficult to write a scene with four people communicating. Jensen got left out a bit, as did Cas, but I tried to keep them all in there, honest. This was an attempt to lure the plot-bunnies back so I can write the next chapter of any of my WIPs. Hopefully I'll be able to get to one of them tomorrow/later today.

-SS-

"Misha!"

"I'll fix it, I promise! Anyway, why do you assume that it's my fault they're here?"

"Because it usually is?"

"…Fair call."

Dean grunted and opened his eyes. This didn't feel right. Last thing he knew, he and Castiel had been having an extremely awkward conversation, which Dean was hoping would lead to him teaching Cas about sex. And now, there were voices that sounded a lot like him and Cas, but having a completely different conversation.

"Shit, he's awake. Misha…"

"I know, I know! Chill. You okay, dude?"

There was someone who looked nearly identical to Castiel leaning over him, looking worried. Behind him was someone who could have been Dean's identical twin. If he'd had one, that is.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean ground out, getting a maniacal grin from the Cas-clone, and a sigh from the other guy.

"Hi! I'm Misha Collins," the Cas-clone introduced himself. "That's Jensen Ackles. Um, we're actors for the TV show Supernatural."

"I hate Chuck," Dean muttered. The pair both grinned at him then.

"Well, here Chuck's not actually a prophet. You're kinda… in a different dimension. One where ghosts and stuff don't actually exist. Well, some people claim that they do, and there is some rather compelling evidence to suggest–"

"Misha. Shut up and let him adjust," Jensen suggested, gently pulling Misha away. "Sorry, he's a little overwhelming at times. We'll work on getting you guys back to your own reality as soon as we can."

"Wait," Dean was trying to sort everything out in his head. "If magic and stuff doesn't exist here, why aren't you more freaked about this?"

"Because somehow Misha's involved," Jensen shrugged. "You get used to things going spectacularly awry when he's around."

"Right. And… wait, us guys?"

"Yeah. Castiel came through as well."

Dean looked around, and suddenly his brain threatened to short-circuit. A few feet away, Castiel was lying back, propped up on his elbows, while Misha was straddling his hips and giving him that introduction to kissing Dean had been contemplating earlier. Jensen turned and spotted them, letting out a growl when he did.

"Misha! Get off him, you whore."

"Hey!" Misha pulled back a little, not looking all that bothered by the insult. Castiel remained where he had been, blinking a little. "I just wanted to know what it would be like to kiss myself."

"No," Jensen sighed. "You wanted to convince me to have a four-way, and decided that having clones of us both would be the best way to get me to say yes."

"Well, that too."

"Whatever," Jensen was now clearly trying not to laugh. "Just send them back to their own reality."

Misha glared, then turned back to Castiel, seemingly intent on ignoring Jensen.

"You wouldn't mind continuing what we were doing before, would you?"

"I would not be averse to another kiss," Castiel responded in a gravelly voice that sent Dean's blood flowing directly south. His mouth went dry as he saw Misha's eyes light up, and the identical pair resumed their interrupted snog session. It somehow didn't set off his usual possessive reaction whenever someone paid too much attention to Cas, and it was actually really hot watching him make out with this Misha character.

Apparently Jensen didn't agree, and Misha was suddenly hauled back and off of Castiel.

"Cut that out," Jensen hissed.

"But Jen, it's not cheating – it's masturbation!"

"What the hell?" Dean spoke then, gaining the attention of the insane one.

"Well, he's basically me from another reality," Misha explained. "So having sex with him would be having sex with myself, which is masturbation. Totally not cheating on Jensen, right?"

"He has a point," Dean shrugged. "Wait, you two are together?"

"Not for much longer at this rate," Jensen muttered.

"Aw, don't be like that," Misha wrapped his arms around Jensen's waist and nuzzled his chest. "You know I love you. I just wanna spice things up a bit! They'll be gone soon, how often do we get a chance like this?"

Dean could see Jensen wavering, and had the distinct feeling that Misha called the shots in the relationship. He turned to comment as much to Castiel, only to find the angel invading his personal space again.

"And what's your opinion, Dean?" Castiel murmured. "Would you agree to a… four-way, I believe it is, if it were with me?"

"Fuck yeah," Dean grinned, seizing the opportunity with both hands. Castiel grinned back, then leaned further in to capture Dean's mouth with his own. Dean happily opened up, raising a hand to rest on the back of Castiel's neck, fingers gently playing with the end of his angel's hair.

He realised pretty quickly that Misha must be a damn good kisser to have taught Cas this well in five minutes, and decided that he'd really like to try kissing him too. The pair broke apart and glanced over to the others, and Dean had to stifle a laugh – Misha was in the process of removing Jensen's shirt, grinning gleefully the whole time, and Dean couldn't help but let out a wolf-whistle.

"Shut up," Jensen glared at him. "Just wait 'till you and Cas get together. If he and Mish are anything alike…"

"We are," Castiel commented, shrugging out of his overcoat and jacket before tugging on Misha's pant leg. Misha gladly dropped to his knees to briefly nuzzle at Castiel's neck, then reached over to grab Dean's shirt.

"C'mere," he insisted, and Dean leaned forwards to fulfil his earlier wish. And he'd been right – Misha had a very talented tongue.

Dean was vaguely aware of a possessive growl somewhere behind him, but felt free to ignore it in favour of pushing Misha down on top of Castiel and continuing to thoroughly explore his mouth. He felt it as someone tugged at his t-shirt and pulled back long enough to dispose of it, feeling a naked chest press against his back and familiar arms wrap around him to start undoing his jeans.

In front of him and Jensen, Misha and Cas had returned to their own make-out session again. Dean could feel himself getting harder as he watched them fumbling with each other's clothes, and an answering hardness rubbing against his arse.

"I take it you're now on board?" Dean asked, turning his head to look at Jensen. It was still rather disconcerting, but at least they were good looking guys. He held Jensen's gaze for a few seconds, before the other man let out a huff and nipped at Dean's shoulder.

"Like I said. If Cas and Mish are anything alike, get used to the fact that they run the show. You think Sam's puppy-dog eyes are bad? Just wait until Cas learns it."

"Scary," Dean pretended to shudder, though in actuality he was rather looking forward to it. Castiel's face could be so expressive when he wanted it to be, it was a delight to watch him discover new emotions and expressions.

"Very," Jensen confirmed, sliding a hand into Dean's now-open pants to start stroking along his erection. "I held a wake for a turtle because of those damn blue eyes. Given what you go up against all the time, I hate to think what he'll have you doing."

Dean shoved his pants down and started undoing his shoelaces. This was made a little difficult by the fact that his eyes were glued to Castiel and Misha, who had managed to get topless. Misha was exploring Castiel's torso with fingers and lips, and the angel seemed quite on board with this turn of events.

Finally managing to disrobe completely, Dean leaned forwards and joined Misha in his exploration of the angel. It earned him a grin from Misha and a sigh of contentment from Castiel, even as he saw Jensen undoing Misha's pants as well.

"C'mon," Jensen muttered. "This is gonna be tricky enough with four people. Some help getting out of these things?"

"If you insist," Castiel spoke up then. In the next instant, all four men were out of any remaining clothes. Misha looked down, then reached down to stroke Castiel's erection, a serious look on his face.

"Interesting. We really are completely identical." He had an almost scientific air about him then, before a devilish glint entered his eye. "I wonder about taste." With that, he bent down and licked a stripe up the underside of Castiel's dick, sucking briefly on the head when he got to it.

"Fuck that's hot," Dean whispered at Misha leant back and licked his lips.

"Hm, nope, he tastes sweeter. Possibly some angelic side-affect." He turned to face Dean, then did the same to him, one hand moving to keep stroking Castiel. "You taste different too," he commented upon pulling back. "Not exactly like Jensen."

"And now you're a semen connoisseur," Jensen muttered, before Misha closed his eyes briefly, breath hitching.

Dean moved a little and saw why – Jensen now had a finger inside of Misha, slowly sliding it in and out.

"Of course I am," Misha had apparently regained his breath, and was something of a talker. "I keep telling you that different men have different tastes. It's all to do with what they eat and how much they exercise, and different things like that."

"You telling the truth or bullshitting again?" Jensen laughed. Dean jumped a little as he felt Castiel rubbing a hand over his arse, a finger pressing against him, then figured 'why not?' and tried to relax enough to allow Cas in.

"Yes," Misha commented, which wasn't an answer at all.

Dean reached over and pulled Misha into another kiss to get him to shut up. It appeared quite an effective method, though both men let out groans as their respective partners stretched them further open.

"How shall we complete the copulation?" Castiel inquired then, and Dean couldn't help but chuckle into Misha's mouth. It was such a Cas question… he'd obviously never watched porn.

Dean kissed a trail to Misha's ear and whispered into it, pitched low enough that he doubted the others could hear them.

"Me and Jensen fuck you, Cas fucks me?"

"You're so certain I can take you both?" Misha whispered back, sending out his tongue to lick at Dean's ear as he did so.

"Pretty damn sure," Dean licked back. The pair then drew apart long enough to share a conspiratorial grin, before pouncing on Jensen and knocking him to the ground.

"What the hell!" Jensen shouted, taken off-guard.

"Just go with it," Misha grinned down at him, before straddling him and sinking down onto Jensen's cock. "Ah, that feels good!" He shifted up and down a couple of times, and Dean couldn't hold back any longer.

"Shit, not two of us," Jensen's eyes were wide as he felt another cock line up against his, but Dean and Misha both grinned down at him.

"I'll be fine," Misha assured him, stroking along his chest with one hand before leaning back and looking over Dean's shoulder. "Cas, when Dean's in me, go ahead and take him."

"Very well," Castiel said, and Dean could feel the angel again kneeling behind him. There was a hand on his hip, and he watched in awe as Castiel gripped Dean's cock and guided him to press against Misha as well.

"Fuuuuuuck," Misha groaned as he was breached a second time. He was panting hard, and Dean was worried for a moment that things had gone too far.

"Misha, you okay?"

"Fuck man," Jensen looked about two seconds away from halting all proceedings. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Shut up, the pair of you," Misha spat, rocking himself back and forth for a moment. "Gimme a moment to adjust. Fuck, it's like a pair of baseball bats just got shoved up my arse."

Dean bent his head and started mouthing at the back of Misha's neck, licking and nipping to try and take his mind off of what must be an initially uncomfortable sensation. Below, he could see Misha's hands slowly unfurling from where he'd been digging his fingers into Jensen's chest, and Jensen softly stroking Misha's cock.

It took a few minutes before Misha rocked backwards, nodding.

"Okay, let's get to the good stuff."

Dean huffed a laugh, but pressed forwards while Jensen thrust down, creating a constant slide against each other and Misha. They were soon thrusting easier, which meant that naturally it was time for Castiel to join in.

The angel mimicked Dean's movements and kissed his shoulders while pushing inside, and Dean couldn't help but thrust backwards to impale himself quicker. He'd fooled around with some guys in the past and knew enough to know that he wasn't going to last once Cas found his prostate, but damnit he wanted Castiel in him now!

Soon enough, he and Jensen were again thrusting into Misha, which in turn caused Dean to thrust backwards onto Cas. Castiel didn't move much, as he could easily throw off the rhythm, but it was still enough that he was mostly pressed against Dean's prostate. Dean whimpered a little, even as he bent his head back, trying to reach for a kiss.

Castiel obliged him, stretching to devour Dean's mouth with his own as his hands ran up and down Dean's skin. He had the distinct feeling that Cas wasn't as innocent about sex as he'd been led to believe, especially when the angel started lightly pinching at Dean's nipples.

Dean closed his eyes in an effort to hold on longer, but that somehow made it worse. The sensations of Misha clenching around him, Jensen's cock rubbing at his own, and Castiel's shallow thrusts into him, added to the attention to his chest, meant that he was rapidly coming undone.

He didn't want to be the only one though, so he tore his lips from Cas and turned his attention back to Misha, one hand massaging his hip while the other snaked around to stroke at Jensen's stomach. Jensen looked pretty close to coming too, which made Dean feel better even as his own movements started to lose coherency.

"Fuck," he whispered, feeling himself getting closer. "Fuck, I usually have more stamina than this!"

"Maybe," Misha commented lightly, no trace of his earlier discomfort left. "But have you ever been in the middle of a gangbang before?"

"No," Dean moaned, head falling back to rest on Castiel's shoulder. "Shit, I'm almost there!"

"So's Jen," Misha looked down and smiled at his boyfriend, clenching his arse around the two men inside him as their movements became haphazard. "That's so hot, feels so good."

"Shit, Mish!" Jensen grabbed hold of Misha's thighs and thrust up again, at the same time as Dean arched his back to get deeper inside of their joint lover. He felt as Jensen lost control right alongside him, and they let out a simultaneous groan as they emptied themselves inside Misha.

Castiel had his arms wrapped around Dean then, holding him up as Misha extricated himself from between the other identical men. He was grinning widely, and pressed a kiss first to Jensen's mouth, then to Dean's.

"Now that's what I call a fun evening," he commented happily.

"But you didn't come," Jensen muttered as Castiel put Dean down on top of him. Dean and Jensen were both fighting not to fall asleep, but Misha just smiled at them.

"Neither did Cas. We'll take care of each other, you two get some rest."

With that, he sank to all fours in front of where Castiel knelt, and let the angel easily slide into his now well-stretched arse. Dean found that he didn't want to move from where he was currently lying on top of Jensen – definitely not cuddling, just lying together – as it gave the best view of Castiel and Misha. He could barely tell which was which, and he really wished he could get hard again just to jerk off to the image.

Especially when Castiel grabbed Misha's hips to keep him in place, and started slamming into him.

"Fuck yeah!" Misha shouted above the deep growls coming from Castiel's throat – pretty much the only way of telling them apart was that Misha was a mouthy bastard and Cas' voice went straight to Dean's dick. It apparently did something for Jensen as well, since he brought his arms up around Dean to rub his back. They still weren't cuddling though, which made it okay.

"That's it, that's perfect, fuck me," Misha devolved into a series of whimpers as Cas became almost brutal. Dean could see the glint in Castiel's eyes, the one that said he was barely holding onto his control, and he wondered briefly what would happen if Cas lost control.

It only took a few minutes before Misha was shouting his climax, while Castiel thrust deep and growled as he came a few short seconds later. Cas then knelt back, pulling Misha with him so that he was sitting on the angel's lap, and they shared another over-shoulder kiss.

Dean smiled and closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. They'd worry about getting back to their own time later, once they'd recovered. And maybe had another round.

He could still hear the contented sounds Misha and Castiel were making as they kissed, then another voice had him freezing in place and wishing for a weapon.

"So, I take it everything went well?"

"Hello Gabriel," Castiel murmured.

"Hi Gabe!" Misha was much more enthusiastic. "Thanks for this by the way, best birthday present ever."

"I know, I'm awesome right?" The archangel-turned-trickster sounded incredibly smug, and Dean risked opening his eyes a fraction.

There he was, the smug git himself, standing next to Cas and Misha with a hand on each of their heads. It was enough to make all of the protective, possessive instincts rise up, and he struggled to sit up – as did Jensen, who apparently also recognised the trouble they were in.

"Oh, hey guys," Gabriel just grinned at them. "Thanks for playing along. I promised Misha I'd do something spectacular for his birthday."

"Wait, how do you even know him?" Dean swallowed hard. This was just beyond weird.

"I jump planes pretty regularly," Gabriel shrugged. "Anyway, you two ready to go back to your own reality? Someone's gonna notice you're not where you're supposed to be pretty soon."

"Aw, Gabriel," Misha looked up and pouted. "Can't they stay just a little longer?"

"Sorry. Gotta get 'em back. But maybe next time I'll send you over to their reality. Okay?"

"Okay," Misha relented, and he gave Castiel a quick kiss goodbye before crawling over to do the same to Dean. "We'll be seeing you guys again… at some point."

With that, Gabriel clicked his fingers and everything went black. Again.

-SS-

Dean woke up again curled up into Castiel's side. The angel was lying back on a familiar motel bed, gently carding a hand through Dean's hair while apparently waiting for him to wake up. They were both still naked, Dean noticed.

"Did that really happen?" He asked first off, wanting some reassurance.

"Yes," Castiel said simply. "And it will probably happen again. Misha can be quite determined, and Gabriel seems unable to deny us when we both want something from him."

"Wait, so you and Misha already knew each other?"

"Of course," Castiel looked a little surprised. "I've visited him several times. He taught me a lot of things which I wish to try on you." With that, the hand that had been stroking Dean's hair trailed down his back and instead stroked the skin just behind Dean's balls. He arched into the touch, pleased to see that apparently jumping realities had jump-started his recovery time.

"Well then," Dean grinned as he climbed onto Castiel's lap, grinding their erections together, "I guess I'd better thank him next time we meet up."

"You certainly should," Castiel nodded solemnly. "Manners are important."

Dean gave in with a laugh, and kissed Castiel the way he'd wanted to for a long time – deep and meaningful, naked bodies pressing together with nowhere better to be than wrapped up in each other.

Pity he'd forgotten that Sam was around in this reality.

-FIN-


End file.
